The director's latest project may have breathed new life into the concept of Black vampires, but the origins of this cinematic category date back to the 1970s cultural movement. One of the most iconic early examples was the 1972 classic Blacula. In that film, the actor's character is turned by Dracula and cursed with the insulting name “Blacula.” Initially conceived as a stereotype, the performer elevated the part into something regal, giving his figure an historical origin as Mamuwalde, a proud African prince.
Years afterward, Eddie Murphy appeared to draw a cue from his predecessor, deepening his own character's mythology in Wes Craven's interpretation on the Black vampire subgenre: Vampire in Brooklyn. The protagonist Maximillian is a descendant of Dracula whose ancestors fled to Egypt, and later to the Bermuda Triangle, after being hunted to the brink of extinction. Vampire in Brooklyn proves that tales of African American undead can be funny, frightening, and thought-provoking simultaneously, securing its position in the canon by juggling all three while respecting the heritage of the category.
Debuted three decades back on Oct. 27, 1995, Vampire in Brooklyn is now available on a popular platform, making it an must-see if you need a dash of humor with your scares this Halloween.
A Tale of Two Cities
Similar to the royal character in Coming to America (Murphy's classic from 1988), the vampire lead is pulled to New York City. But instead of traveling from Zamunda to Queens, he emerges from the mysterious region into Brooklyn, seeking to locate and ensure the continuation of his undead bloodline with an offspring of his clan.
The character makes his entrance in New York on a ghost ship whose crew has been mysteriously slaughtered, a homage to Nosferatu. The vessel is found by harbor official Silas Green (the comedian) and his nephew Julius Jones (the actor), two of the most humorous personalities in the movie. The inspector then observes a dark creature jump from the ship, dart into an alley, and transform into a human — like Michael Jackson's Panther Dance from the extended Black or White video. Groovy 1970s-inspired soundtrack starts, setting the tone for a movie that handily balances horror and humor.
Artistic Goals
Fresh off his last installment in the Nightmare on Elm Street series, the director was eager to move beyond his horror reputation and create a more blended comedy (his subsequent project after Vampire in Brooklyn was Scream, which mined horror tropes for both comedy and genuine scares). Meanwhile, the star aimed to subvert expectations by venturing into a straight horror rooted in vampire mythology. The conflict of those artistic aims explains the story's detailed beginning of the protagonist's backstory and its generally sluggish start. But once the movie clicks into high gear, it unfolds to its assets — like its diverse ensemble.
The acclaimed actress, as the vampire's love interest, plays police officer Rita Veder, whose relationship with her partner and love interest, detective Justice (Allen Payne), brings a crime-drama edge to the story. One of African American film's most praised performers, she delivers a powerful performance alongside her co-star, a familiar face from the era. In the meantime, Murphy spends most of his screen time with Kadeem Hardison, creating a uproarious Abbott-and-Costello-style duo as Hardison’s Julius Jones becomes Max’s undead lackey. (Seeing Julius descend further into his ghoulish role as his skin decays during the movie is a highlight of how the star's comedic style enhances the comedy and horror, even when utilized by the cast).
Dark Seduction
When Max and Rita’s paths intertwine and Murphy and Bassett appear together, the movie reaches its peak — the suspense builds, the fear escalates, and their darkly seductive chemistry becomes the focus. The vampire's scheme is to remove all Rita has in her life and then swoop in. He kills her housemate, creates conflict in between her and her partner, and even uses Nutty Professor-esque make-up effects to disguise himself as a clergyman and undermine her beliefs.
As the story progresses, it becomes more darkly romantic, featuring transformations and discoveries of heritage. This results in a third act packed with temptation, as mortality and damnation hang in the balance. The film ends with a teaser hinting at a potential sequel, one that might have materialized had the film performed better. Vampire in Brooklyn earned a modest box office return and got largely critical reception upon release. As years passed, it gained popularity as a cult favorite, with critics later praising Craven’s direction, the spark between Murphy and Bassett, and its sharp blend of horror and comedy. The movie flashes glimpses of genius that could have been more prominent had all participants been in agreement on a unified vision, rather than producing the tonal hodgepodge audiences received. Still, Vampire in Brooklyn has deservedly secured its place in the canon of African American scary movies, an underappreciated but impactful film characterized by its bold style and unforgettable performances.
